


Free to Love

by Sexycanofsoup



Category: Free!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 19:12:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2240226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sexycanofsoup/pseuds/Sexycanofsoup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Haru's disastrous race Makoto is filled with horror and guilt. Why hadn't he pushed Haru a little more to find out what the problem was? Why had Haru suddenly stopped swimming? And worst of all, was it all his fault? After years of hiding his feelings for the beautiful swimming boy he wonders whether he's made all the wrong choices and whether or not he still has time to set things straight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Free to Love

**Author's Note:**

> I needed to get some feelings out after this past week's episode. I'm sure most of you felt the same.

Free to Love:

As Haru turned to walk away Makoto could only watch, his legs like rusting anchors. He was paralyzed. He didn’t know what to do, couldn’t even begin to imagine what to do because right now the pain he was feeling now had taken over everything, stabbing him everywhere--behind his eyes, in his stomach and crushing his chest close making breathing impossible and his heart beats agonizing waves of pain.

The moment Haru had stood up in the pool he hadn’t felt anything--he had been too shocked. The image had been too confusing, too impossible to comprehend. It was a scenario he had never pictured even though his whole life was pretty much just one big Haru obsessed thought. No matter how much he’d worried he’d never pictured...this. Maybe he should have. Maybe if he’d pictured it he could have stopped it from happening. Maybe it was all his fault. No--not maybe--it was _definitely_ his fault. It always was. Because he knew that Haru had difficulties no one else had. He knew how grueling it was for Haru to express himself, but he’d opened up to Makoto. Well, opened up to him more than he had to anyone else. And that had made Makoto responsible. He should have been the one to stop this. Should have been all over this the minute he sensed something was wrong. But he hadn’t wanted to push too hard. He was always afraid of pushing too hard. It wasn’t just that he hated asking things of people, though that was true enough to. It was mostly because it was Haru. There was not a single area in his life that was more treasured than the friendship he shared with Haru. Sometimes he was eaten away with the guilt of that. His family of course was of utmost importance to him, particularly his siblings Ren and Ran, but the nightmares that plagued him both day and night nearly always involved Haru, and it was with the beautiful dark haired swimming boy that most of his thoughts and worries lay. And so even though there was no one Makoto trusted more than Haru, sometimes he felt like he hid more from the boy than he did anyone else. He was afraid that if he pushed too hard the tenuous waves of communication would be crushed and never reopened. Just thinking of losing that with Haru made his stomach shoot with icy needles. But there was another reason, a more selfish one. Makoto was in love with Haru. He had been for years now. Had needed to face that fact early on or he would have gone crazy denying it. And the problem with that was that Makoto didn’t really know how to hide it. He didn’t really know how to lie, not really, and that’s why he could feel his love for the boy express itself through every look, every touch, that he gave him. He knew he could never hide it completely. All he could do was try and keep it back like a giant dam against the years’ worth of pent up love and words he so wanted to shower the boy in. And that’s why he tried not to push, because if he really did try and pursue Haru for his thoughts, worries, and anything else Makoto sensed was bothering the boy, he knew that Haru would sense it--that he wouldn’t be able to keep his true feelings from the boy any longer. It would be too obvious.

But now… Well right now he felt that he definitely should have risked it. He should have let Haru see because what were his feelings or possible rejection in the face of the all-consuming lost look in Haru’s eyes? Nothing. Right now he was nothing and Haru was everything--would always be everything. And he’d been such an _idiot_ for worrying about himself. Why didn’t he push more? Why hadn’t he gotten to the bottom of it? Haru hadn’t been himself since the beginning of the summer. He’d known that, of course he had, so why hadn’t he…? Why?

Makoto’s eyes were trained on the back of Haru’s head. Beside him were Nagisa and Rei, forgotten. They were speaking--shouting even--but Makoto didn’t hear them. The pounding of his heart was too loud and his breath, as it left him in sharp painful jolts, was deafening to his ears.

 _Move_! He commanded his body. _Go to him. Help him. Do something, damn it! Anything! Just go--work--MOVE!_

But he didn’t move. He’d forgotten how. He didn’t feel connected to any of his muscles. And that made the panic surge to new unprecedented levels. And maybe that’s what made his lips finally move, even if that’s all it was.

“Haru…”

It wasn’t enough. Of course it wouldn’t be, but it was something, and in that moment Haru’s shoulder’s tensed, and for one hope swollen moment Makoto thought the boy would pause even if it was just long enough until Makoto realized how to move his body again. But Haru didn’t stop. He took a step forward. And then another.

_No. You can’t. Haru no. Haru tell me. Haru don’t leave you can’t leave you have to tell me you have to not be in pain you have to okay. Please be okay._

But no matter how loud his desperate thoughts were none of them could cover the fact that Haru was _not_ okay. Was less okay than Makoto had ever seen him, and would probably continue to be so no matter what he managed to do about it.

_I’m supposed to be good at this, at understanding what Haru needs. It’s the only thing I was ever sort of good at. It’s the only thing I have._

But he didn’t feel like he had it now. Right now he felt like he had nothing. At least, that was what the dead ache in his chest made him feel. Theoretically he had more. He had a family that loved him, and teammates that cared for him, and hell, Haru had just promised to swim the relay with him--had told him that that was the reason he swam at all. So why did all of that mean nothing right now? Why were all the blessings in his life negated by that stranded look in Haru’s eyes?

“Ha-ru…” His voice cracked midway between the word so that it trailed off into nothing. Haru didn’t even hear it. He was already through the door. Haru was out of sight. Gone. And He had done nothing.

Suddenly there was solid ground and it was because his knees had hit the floor of the locker room.

“Mako-chan!” Nagisa cried out, and Rei was already there. He grabbed Makoto’s arm and wrenched him up, but he was dead weight and Rei ended up sinking down to the ground next to him. “Makoto senpai!”

“Haru…”

He didn’t know the voice that came from his throat or who it belonged to, but it wasn’t his. “Haru…”

“Stop it, Makoto, you’re scaring us!” Rei said, casting an anxious look toward Nagisa whose eyes were rounded out in horror.

Makoto clapped a hand over his mouth and let out a choked out cry. That was bad. He hadn’t done anything like that in years, not even in private. A set of arms wrapped tightly around his neck--strangling him--and then he felt wetness on the back of his neck accompanied by Nagisa’s sobs. “Mako-chan I hate this. Why is this happening? We were supposed to swim the relay together. What is this? What happened to Haru? Why did he stop swimming? He never stops swimming. I don’t understand. I don’t know what’s happening! Why won’t you tell me what’s happening?”

His sobs were loud, angry, and his fingers were digging into Makoto’s skin, but he barely felt them, and he didn’t notice when Rei peeled the boy’s fingers from his neck.

“Stop it, Nagisa. You’ll hurt him.”

“He won’t tell me! Makoto always knows what’s bothering Haru and he won’t tell me and it’s not fair!”

“I don’t know.”

Both Rei and Nagisa turned to him sharply but Makoto looked down unable to meet their eyes.

“I don’t know what happened. I just don’t.”

He brought both hands up to his face and covered it with them. They were shaking. “I don’t know why he stopped swimming. I don’t know what’s been happening to him this month or why he never talks to me or smiles anymore. I don’t know why he never talks about himself or why he’s stopped inviting me for walks. I don’t know why he’s always disappearing into his own head or what he’s thinking when he does it. I don’t know what he wants to do with his future or if he wants to include me in it at all and i don’t know why he won’t tell me a damn thing. I just don’t _know_!”

Both Rei and Nagisa flinched backward, and Makoto realized it was because he was yelling--something he wasn’t supposed to do. He was supposed to be the nice one. The gentle one. But he didn’t feel very nice right now. He felt hurt and frustrated and so clueless. He never knew anything. Everything was always a guessing game with Haru. It had been for years. He’d make decisions for both of them based off Haru’s facial expressions but he could never know anything for sure because the boy never told anything and the anxiety of not being certain had been eating away for years. And now the dam holding everything--the dam that had been steadily cracking--was crumbling. Makoto could feel the water surging forward, demanding to be released, and if he had the strength to hold it back, he couldn’t care to find it right now.

He staggered to his feet.

“Makoto senpai--where are you--”

“Haru,” he answered, forcing his feet to hold his weight. He knew that if he stopped he’d collapse so he pushed his feet forward. “I’m going to Haru. I’ll always go to Haru. Even if I don’t understand. Even if I’m not wanted, that’s all I can do, because that’s all I know how to do. I never should have tried to do differently, i never should have tried to force the necessary distance between us, because it won’t work. I belong there. The only place I want to be is next to Haru.”

He reached the door and turned around. Rei had his arm around Nagisa’s waist, holding him back from trying to stop him, Makoto figured. But his eyes looked past them and found a shell shocked Rin. Rin, who Makoto thought, was probably the person who understood most because they had a lot in common when it came to feelings for the beautiful freestyle boy. But they were also different because Rin had left and things had changed, Rin had changed. And though the sharkboy was a better person now--kinder, more patient--he was not the same boy who had been in love with Haru before he’d left for Australia. He had Sousuke now. But Makoto didn’t have anyone else, and he hadn’t left, and his feelings had never changed, and that’s why he had to go to Haru and Rin had to go somewhere else.

“Sousuke,” he said, spearing the other boy with as powerful a look as he could muster. “Go check on Sousuke. He needs you now.”

That was another thing he shouldn’t have kept quiet about. He understood Sousuke on a basic level. Sometimes it was like looking in a mirror. Sousuke’s shoulder wasn’t healed. He felt it in his gut. And Haru’s reassurances hadn’t worked, because Sousuke _would_ swim with an injured shoulder. He would do it for Rin. Makoto understood that because he would do the same for Haru. He would do anything if it meant swimming with the boy one last time.

“Sousuke?”

Now Rin’s expression was changing to something more concrete. Shock was being replaced by more discernible expressions--panic and fear.

“Go.” Makoto instructed, and that was all he could do. He turned on his heel and raced through the door. His legs stumbled at first, but then he picked up speed, running until things began to blur beside him. Adrenaline was pushing into him now making his limbs throb with blood and urgency.

_Find him. Make it better. Make him okay again._

Nothing else mattered now. He’d use any tactic, say any words as long as they helped and as long as they were the truth. He cared about Haru far too much to give him false words now.

“Haru!” he called out the boy’s name even though he knew he wouldn’t be here even though there were pools here, they weren’t good pools, as Haru had clearly demonstrated with his refusal to swim. He knew that in a state of this level of agitation there was only one pool that Haru would really want--the one at the iwatobi swim club. But that was miles away. Would Haru try to go there? How would he even get there? A knife of fear sliced into his stomach. He wouldn’t hitchhike, would he? What were the lengths Haru would go to in order to get back to his pool? But no, he didn’t have to worry about Haru getting molested by some perv on the road because Haru wasn’t in the state where he could be too picky about where to go. He needed water and he needed it now, which meant…

Makoto hit the front door of the building with his shoulder and kept moving as it slammed open and into the wall outside. It had been a five minute ride on the bus this morning which meant that it was about a 15 to twenty minute walk. He was determined to cover it in four. His feet pounded against the asphalt of the road. It was easier to run on the street--no pedestrians. He didn’t really think of himself as a runner, but he did do laps as part of his training and he was deeply thankful for the conditioning of his muscles now as he sucked in air and erased the distance between him and Haru with giant strides and over exerted limbs.

 _I’m coming Haru so be okay. Don’t do anything crazy. Please keep it together until I get there because I_ WILL _get there and I_ WILL _fix it. Somehow...I don’t know but somehow together we’ll manage it. You’re so strong. You’ve always been so strong. Please Haru._

The blood in his ears roared so loudly that it matched the volume of the cars that screamed along beside him. Running like this was dangerous, and his mother would ground him for life if she knew, but he was sticking to the side and he was almost there, and _Oh god I want Haru. I need to see him and crap that look in his eye. I’m going to see that damn hunted look in every nightmare I have for the rest of my life. I never want to see it again. I want to destroy anything that could ever cause it. I’d give my home, my life, my everything to make sure it doesn’t...but that doesn’t matter because you have to move, damn it! Why are you so slow? Why aren’t you with Haru?_

As he darted around the corner the hotel finally popped into his field of vision. The sight pushed his inflamed mind harder and he put on an even further burst of speed until he was skidding through the sliding front doors and into the lobby. He paid the receptionist and hotel guests no attention as he raced for the steps. He climbed them three at a time rising through the flights and cursing whatever nameless clerk that had decided to book them on the fifth floor. He stumbled on the last step. His legs felt more like jelly than like actual working appendages now, but he would make it _had_ to make it, and so he threw himself forward down that final hallway and crashed into the door of their room. He could barely see now because sweat had run into his eyes, but he didn’t need to see, he knew where the bathroom was and he reached it in several clumsy but massive strides. He punched out to get the door but miscalculated because it was already open and that’s how he managed to fall to the floor right in front of the already overflowing tub.

“Haru!” he tried to gasp, only it didn’t really work because he had no breath left in his body. What came out sounded like an asthmatic wheeze that nobody would be able to comprehend--especially not someone submerged under water. Makoto could see traces of purple and a blob of dark hair beneath the surface which meant that Haru had raced all the way home in his swimsuit and just jumped in which he’d done before but never with this level of abandon. Water was leaking all over the floor as it overflowed over the edge, but Makoto cared about that even less than Haru right now. He pushed himself back onto his feet nearly slipping in the wet and cracking his head. He sloshed into the tub and reached down in one practiced motion. He’d lifted Haru out of a tub every day for more than a decade now, however he’d never done it quite this sloppily. Both his hands went under the boy’s armpits as he wrenched him up out of the water and crashed him against his chest. It was only when he’d sunk down into the tub on his knees with his arms wrapped tightly around the boy that he realized the shaking of his own shoulders was because he was crying.

“I’m here. I’m listening and I’m here and I’m so sorry Haru I wasn’t there before. I wasn’t listening hard enough. I wasn’t. But I am now. I’ll hear anything you have to say even if it lasts forever so tell me or don’t tell me but I’m at least here Haru and I’m not going anywhere because you’ll never be able to force me away anyway and please please just tell me you’re alive and didn’t drown yourself because I’m shaking too stupidly much to check for things like pulses and breathing.”

“Makoto…”

Makoto let out a relieved sob and sunk down deeper into the tub, his limbs giving out on him, but his hold on Haru only tightened. A pale hand snaked up and touched his face.

“Don’t cry Makoto.”

He let out a shaky laugh. As if _not_ crying was an option at this point. “Haru…” He hated what he sounded like when he cried because when there were tears in his voice everything showed—all the vulnerability and all true wishes. There was no way to hide when the tears washed away the carefully painted façade. Haru’s fingers weren’t helping. They were smooth and warm and he couldn’t help feeling like they were tiny points of perfection in a universe that was trying to strangle him right now. They hadn’t had enough time to get wrinkly from the bathwater so as they smoothed over his cheek to cup his face there was nothing to stutter the glide of the movement.

“I wanted to do it for you. I wanted to be okay. But the water. It…It was hurting me. It was all wrong. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. The water…It wasn’t—“

“Free…” Makoto breathed, and just like that everything that had been hidden from him rushed into him in one surge of understanding. Well, it hadn’t even been hidden. Makoto hadn’t been looking. He’d been too blinded by the expectations he’d put on the boy. The expectations the world had for Haru. But it all made sense now and it was all so _wrong._

“Oh god…”

His fingers dug into Haru’s shoulders and lifted him up into his arms wanting to protect him even though he was the one who had hurt the boy in the first place. He hadn’t understood but he wanted to fix it— _needed_ to fix it. To prevent himself from further damaging the boy he had nearly shut down completely. “Haru…I—I’m so sorry. I…I never should have…Of course you’re like this. _Of course_. The scouts, the universities, the push to win. No, not a push, we were shoving you in that direction. I was so proud, you were so talented that I—I wanted to show everyone what you had, who you were. I was so blinded by needing to show them, by wanting them to _see—_ but you didn’t want that. You never pretended to want it so why did I…” His face dropped to haru’s shoulder and then he let out a sob that shuddered through his entire body and cracked a chasm open in his chest. “You depended on me to understand. I know how the rest of the world looks at you. We both do. But I was supposed to understand. You’ve given me so many years to understand, so why did I…?”

“Makoto…It’s okay.”

“It’s _not_ okay!” He wanted to raise his head to look at the boy, but he couldn’t. His forehead was glued to the heat of Haru’s neck and shoulder, wanting it too much. “It’s not okay, and you’re not okay, and it’s all my fault!”

“No.”

“Yes! Yes it is, Haru. You never let me take blame but it is. People call me gentle, call me selfless, but it’s not true. I’m the most selfish person I know. And all of it hurts you. It hurt you so much today. I should have understood. You don’t want to swim for scouts or spectators or anyone that’s trying to define swimming. You swim free. You’ve always swum free, and god, I hope you continue to do so—that you _can_ continue to do so despite the damage I caused today. Please tell me I haven’t ruined swimming for you. If the water can no longer be free then there’s nothing I can do, no action I’ll ever be able to work through that will let me feel okay again. I know how water is your refuge. I know how it’s better than anything else. I know Haru, and I’m so sorry. I won’t ever be able to express how sorry I—“

“Stop.”

But he couldn’t stop. The hurt and guilt were exploding now, only growing larger and more consuming as the realization of what he’d done truly began to hit him. “I only ever wanted to stay by your side. I don’t care about these scouts or this competition. Not really. I only ever wanted it because it meant I could spend more time by your side. I don’t have selfless reasons to swim. I’m not like you. I don’t swim free. I swim for you, Haru. And I always have. I grew to love it, but I know that if you’re ever out of the picture I won’t ever be able to swim without you. It would be painful—missing its key element because every time I think of water—every time I imagine putting my body in it and cutting through it—I always imagine turning to my side and seeing you. Seeing the serenity in your face that only ever comes from being surrounded by water. You’re so beautiful like that, you know? More beautiful than anything or anyone I’ve ever seen Haru and I just want to see it again—over and over—every day. But if I’ve ruined that. If I’ve made it so you can’t—“

“Makoto, please, I want to—“

“I don’t care about anything else Haru. If you want to swim then swim. Don’t do it for anyone else. You embody swimming. You _are_ swimming. That’s precious to me, your happiness is precious to me, and I’ll fight for it Haru. I’ll work. I’ll work and do whatever it takes to make sure you have that freedom forever. I can do it Haru, only let me stay by your side. I remember what it was like not to have you. I wasn’t missing anything. I had it all—a loving family, a good school life, friends. I was a complete person. But then there was you. And I realized that you were light. I was good, but then I was better. I was wonderful because you existed and you were different than anyone else and you were free and that made me feel like I could be free. You were refreshing and real and truth and I have never met anyone else in my life that embodied those traits like you do, Haru, and I doubt I ever will. So please, I don’t want to live without that—without you. I would survive, but then I would go back to being just good. But I don’t want to be good. I want to be the person I can only be with you. I want to be that better person. So I know that it’s selfish but I swear it’s the only thing I’ll ever ask, so Haru, will you please try again, and swim, and let me stay by your side? Even though I’ve hurt you so badly today, and you have no obligation to—“

“Damn it, Makoto! How am I supposed to answer you if you won’t let me get a word in edgewise?”

“Um…I…sorry.”

“Don’t apologize!”

“Right, uh, I mean—“

“Why?”

Makoto stopped—just stopped trying to think or breathe or talk because now he was beyond flustered and confused. He was feeling way too many things right now and didn’t know what to do with even half of them, and now Haru had just asked him a vague as hell question that could have too many answers, and so he opened his mouth to tell the boy so, but Haru clapped his hand over Makoto’s mouth and growled. “Why would you do that for me?”

Makoto blinked. Do what? Stay with Haru? Maybe because there was _literally nothing on earth he wanted more in the entire known universe._

Gently he curled his fingers around those covering his mouth and peeled them off. “Because you’re my oldest and dearest friend.”

“So it’s because you feel obligated? You know, after all we’ve been through together?”

Wait, what? No! That wasn’t it at all. How had he even gotten on that train of thought? Makoto felt things slipping in his mind but this was one thing he could cling to and correct.

“Of course not! I’d do it because I’d want to. Because nothing would make me happier. I know that if I make you happy then I’ll be guaranteed happiness, but even if that didn’t make me happy I’d do it, because that’s what I want to do in this world. I want to make you happy. I’m not that sure about many other things, but that’s one thing I know—that I’ve known for a long time. And if you can swim—swim the way you want—the way someone like you deserves—then you’ll be happy. And if there’s any way I can ensure that I’ll do it—“

“Because you love me?”

Just like that every word and thought ejected itself from Makoto like a popped balloon.

“I…What?” he choked out. He realized that he’d lifted his head and was staring right into Haru’s dead serious eyes.

“Are you in love with me, Makoto Tachibana?”

No. Haru couldn’t do this to him. Not this. Not his nightmare come to life. How could he refuse a direct accusation like that? How could he hide it? He didn’t know anything. What was right and what was possible—not when Haru was looking at him like that. Not when it was like this.

“Haru, please…”

But Haru wouldn’t rescind his statement. He didn’t back down from things in general, but now he looked particularly steadfast. “Answer me, Makoto.”

“I...Haru…”

It got worse—so much worse. Haru reached up, grabbed a handful of his hair, and wrenched Makoto’s head back, forcing their faces together, forcing their eyes to meet with startling clarity. Forcing Makoto out in the open. There would be no hiding. “Tell me, Makoto. Tell me now. Tell me because I don’t have the strength to ask you again. Tell me because I have to hear the answer. Tell me, Makoto. _Tell. Me._ ”

Their foreheads were pressed together now and his whole world was Haru’s eyes and he found himself answering—found his lips moving even though he’d promised himself he’d never tell. That he’d never risk their friendship for this. Every angst ridden night spent fantasizing, and every guilty after rush, and every fevered glance and too-long-stare, and hidden desire burgeoned up inside his gut and exploded out of him in a heated and breathless, “Yes.”

The word shouldn’t have echoed. Maybe it was the tiled room, or the venting, or a sudden change in the universe, but now that word resounded in his head filling everything and there was no space to regret it when Haru was so close to him so he could only marvel at it—at the freedom in it—and wonder if that’s what Haru felt like when he was swimming, and if so, then Haru was the luckiest bastard in the universe, because Makoto felt like everything he’d ever chained down inside of himself was floating and expanding.

“I love you. I wasn’t supposed to, I know, but it just sort of happened, and it probably always would have happened even if I’d tried harder to stop it, and I don’t regret it for a moment because if I could pick anyone on earth to fall in love with it would be you. Because even the things I’m supposed to dislike—like your constant stripping in public places, or your lack of interest in most important daily activities like eating and classwork—I still find them adorable because _you’re_ adorable. And I know you probably don’t want to hear that because you’re a guy—and you probably don’t want to hear any of this once again because you’re a guy, and I’m also a guy, and I shouldn’t be thinking this way about my best friend but it’s not my fault because I was never told how _not_ to love you, so I failed, and Haru, it was the best failure of my life. Loving you is so much different than anything else I have, and I want to have it always, and I—Haru, oh god, why are you crying. You never cry. I made you cry. Crap, Shit, I made you cry. I’m so sorry, I—“

Makoto would later agree that Haru did them both a favor when he shot up, dug both hands into Makoto’s wet hair and smashed their mouths together in a very effective seal against his further rambling, but right now he couldn’t think that, or anything really, because his whole world was the wet boy in his arms and the tight gasping heat of Haru’s breath in his mouth. He hadn’t really known what to expect of Haru’s lips, having never felt them before, but he found himself both surprised and reassured by the fast hard pressure, the desperation in the motion, because he mirrored it with his own self. Because even though he was frozen now, his mouth slack with the shock of the onslaught, inside him something was recognizing the reality of what had just happened, and it was responding with a roar.

“I’m sorry.”

There were hot drops mixed with cold drops, and some of them were Haru’s tears, and that wasn’t okay, and he had to stop it, but he felt like a train had just hit him, and Haru’s rushed apology wasn’t helping. “I’m really sorry.” The words were like ragged slices against his lips as they left Haru’s mouth, and then he was being kissed again, that same desperate biting kiss. “I really tried.” Another kiss. “I shouldn’t have—“

And that’s when Makoto, who had lived most of his life in a state of constant restraint, snapped. It was to be expected, really, because no one was perfect, and Makoto couldn’t be calm and reasonable all the time, especially where Haru was concerned, and so when his arms came down on Haru and yanked him up and into his embrace, it surprised no one, Makoto least of all. His hand found Haru’s hair and slid to his neck, and then, when all his power and heat was concentrated on holding this, the boy most precious to his heart, he kissed him back. Not questioning it, not wondering about deserving it, just kissing him, and feeling his whole body come alive with it. It was funny, the feeling he got from it wasn’t much different than the feeling he usually had when he felt connected with Haru. In fact, it was the same feeling, except stronger, closer, and entirely overwhelming.

His mind screamed Haru’s name. Would probably continue to do so for the remainder of his life or until the sun exploded—whichever came first. The feeling had the kind of power that wrapped entirely around you and gave you the ability to overthrow governments, turn rain to chocolate—or even, and this was the one Makoto could hardly believe—allow you to love a boy you’ve been devoted to nearly your entire life. And yet…the perfection of the moment was marred because Haru was crying, and they weren’t happy tears—Makoto would be able to recognize those. No. These were awful tears that wracked the smaller swimmer’s shoulders, and ones Makoto, in all the years he’d known the boy, had never seen before. He tried to still them with his hands, spreading his palms flat across the boy’s back and lending all his heat to him, but it didn’t work, it only made it worse so that by the time Makoto pulled his mouth away Haru’s nails were ripping into the skin of Makoto’s back and he was shaking like ice in a blender.

“Haru, what…?”

“You should go. You shouldn’t stay here because I can’t do this anymore.”

Makoto was actually surprised at how little his body allowed the words to hurt him. They were clearly words of rejection, but they couldn’t hurt him now—he had no time for that—because Haru’s hurt was far more important and far greater than what he was feeling. Because no matter what happened there was only so unhappy Makoto could be while he had Haru in his arms, and he had always expected rejection. It was why he had kept his feelings to himself in the first place. So yes, it hurt, but it didn’t hurt enough to stop him from turning Haru so that the boy’s back was solid against his stomach, and his head against Makoto’s chest. And when he had completely enveloped the boy in his arms he rested his cheek atop the boy’s head and in a voice as gentle as the dew in the earliest spring days he said. “Tell me everything.”

If he’d expected that to work, he was wrong, because now the sound came. The tears that had been silent until now broke down as Haru curled up tight in an anguished ball and choked out a sound that cleaved Makoto’s heart in two.

“Haru! Don’t… _please…_ ”

His hands were everywhere trying to soothe away the creases and the pain ripping everywhere into the boy, but it wasn’t working, and with his useless gestures, Makoto learned true helplessness, and the panic that could bring so that all he could do was repeat the boy’s name in a steadily more and more destroyed voice. “Haru…Haru tell me. _Please_ Haru. Tell me and I’ll fix it. I’ll give everything to fix it. _Haru.”_

And then after endless coaxing—Makoto felt like his whole life had been spent trying to coax words out of the boy—Haru spoke.

“You _can’t_. You can’t do this. You can’t love me. I…I’m not right. I’m broken. Messed up. Everyone thinks so. They say I’m a robot. They said I don’t understand human emotion. They say I don’t know how to communicate. That I mess up everything. And they’re right. They’re _right_ Makoto. So you _can’t_. I won’t let you. I can’t let you.”

To say Makoto was shocked was to say that a man with a 100 volt livewire thrust up his ass was merely surprised. He was stunned into silence. Haru was the confident one. He was the one who never faltered in what he said. He was the one who laid the world out into simple truths and followed the path he wanted. He wasn’t the one who was affected by what others said. He wasn’t the one who scraped out his insides with self-doubt. He _wasn’t_.

But he was. The pain on the boy’s face couldn’t have been faked by the actor of the century. This was what Haru believed. And even Makoto without any experience in psychology or mental health could see how wretchedly damaging that was.

“No.” He forced his mouth to move—to shape words. “You’re _not_ a robot. You’re _not_ broken. You’re whole and passionate and deserving of all the love in the world, not just my own. And if you don’t think that—if you hear all their voices above your own, then I’ll only have to shout louder than them to drown it out. I’ll tell you over and over. I’ll say it until my throat bleeds. I love you Haru. I love you because of who _you_ are. I don’t love you because you’re the most talented young swimmer in all of Japan, or because you’re cool and ridiculously beautiful. I love you because you’re brave and hardworking, and smarter than me. I love you because despite your belief otherwise you almost always know what to say to your friends when it counts. I love that you can draw anything you see, and can tell the difference between all forty of your swimsuits that look exactly the same to me. I love how you wear that apron I made for you back in elementary school in home ec every single day, and I love even more that you get upset whenever Nagisa tries to wear it. I love that my siblings feel just as safe with you as they do with me and how their eyes light up whenever they see you. I love just saying your name and I love how you respond to it faster than anyone else does. I love that we both suck at English and that you usually spend that class doodling or staring at the pool. I love how you allow Nagisa to call you silly nicknames because you know it makes him happy. I love how carefully you thought of Rin’s feelings when it came to swimming with him, and though it can be a little painful to think about, I love that you can have a connection with him that can make you so happy. And Haru, I can’t even begin to describe how happy I was when I got to taste the hint of Mackerel in your breath just now, only to say that I love you as much as I can, and it’s a hell of a lot, but still only a sliver of what you deserve, so just accept it, and stop with this nonsense about not deserving love because it’s awful, and a stupid lie, and I’m not going to budge an inch on this one.”

His heart was pounding and he was pretty sure the room was actually starting to spin at this point but his light headedness couldn’t disguise the pleasure he got from finally starting to express himself the way he wanted to with Haru—with complete truth. But when he stopped to catch his breath, and looked to see how Haru was reacting to it, he faltered.

“Haru?” he asked, doubt breaking into his voice. “Did I freak you out?” Because Haru certainly looked freaked out. In fact, he looked like he’d just been headbutted by a 200 pound mackerel, and he didn’t mean that in a good way.

“I…” Haru bit his lip and then twisted around in Makoto’s lap and buried his head in Makoto’s chest. “I really want to kiss you again.”

Makoto was surprised by how coherently he was able to respond to that statement. “Believe me, I’m not about to try and stop you.”

That didn’t do over very well. Haru’s fingers closed down over Makoto’s biceps and squeezed like they were trying to extract some kind of life saving liquid from them. “Stop it. Stop being so good. So kind. I already know how out of my league you are. I already know that you deserve the kind of partner people can only write about. So stop widening the gap between us. Every time I look at you you’ve managed to become more—more kind, more understanding, more handsome. I already have so little to offer. I’ll never keep up. It’s stupid. I know I should just give you up. I know I should let you be with someone else--someone who’s more. Someone I’m not. But I can’t. I love very few things Makoto. You know that. And you also know that I’m not good at loving in moderation. When I was five years old I tasted mackerel for the first time. Do you remember that? It was when we were at the festival together. And then you spent all the money you had on you buying me more of it. You didn’t buy anything for yourself, but you smiled so much that night that it looked like you had. I remember that night Makoto. I remember it every single time I eat Mackerel, which is every day, because that night was precious to me—is precious to me—like every other time I spend with you. And everything I love is linked to you like that. You said I swim free—completely nondependent on anything around me. But I want to swim with you Makoto. Even when I’m alone in the water I know it won’t be long until you’re there. I know that every morning you’ll be there to lift me out of the bath to go to school. I love those walks to school Makoto. They’re my favorite part of the day. Because at that point when the sun hasn’t been out long and the world doesn’t seem as smudged I can see you so clearly and it’s almost like nothing else exists and I can pretend, for the duration of those walks, that I could be with you—that it’s okay for me to be with you even though it isn’t. That I’ll only hurt you because I know I’ll disappoint you and I know that eventually, no matter how patient you are, you’ll get tired of trying to figure out what I want because I’m so useless with words. You’ll get tired of reading my mind. You’ll get tired of explaining my public behavior or dealing with my obsession with water. And then you’ll look for someone else—someone who actually owns a pair of underwear and not 43 purple swimsuits I even wear to sleep. Someone you can be proud to introduce to people. Someone with accomplishments. Someone who can smile more easily and make jokes and understand sarcasm. Someone who doesn’t fade into the background or be found in the swimming pool when they’re supposed to be at important events like entrance ceremonies or dinner dates. Someone who isn’t me.”

Makoto had always loved Haru’s eyes. They were such a clear blue. None of the pools or bodies of water that he and Haru had ever swum in had been that blue. But right now he was actually breathless from them. Maybe it was the tears, or maybe it was the raw emotion, but somehow Haru’s eyes had the kind of startling clarity that no painting, however accurate, could ever capture. The color just didn’t seem to exist in nature outside of the boy’s eyes.

There were years of suffering and insecurities in that boy’s eyes now. It had been masked very well—too well. But Makoto could see it now. Could understand it even though the worries were so alien to him that he wouldn’t have believed them real if Haru hadn’t said them. Because how could Haru think that Makoto could ever grow tired of him, could ever even think about replacing him, when every day for the past twelve years he had only grown closer, and fallen harder, for the beautiful boy the world called Haruka Nanase.

“That,” he said as he lifted Haru’s head and slid his hands into the boy’s hair. “Will never happen.” And then he pulled the boy’s face up to his and kissed it, pressing his lips first to each of the boy’s eyelids, astounded by the delicacy and softness of the skin there, before pressing kisses to his forehead, nose, and each of his cheeks in turn. Only then did he tilt the boy’s face that last bit up and close his mouth over the other boy’s. Swallowing Haru’s anticipatory gasp and returning it with his own. He did not kiss Haru for very long. There was still too much to say. But for the few moments they were connected that way Makoto allowed himself to fall into Haru, hiding nothing and giving everything as he knotted his hands in the boy’s hair and tasted him with his tongue. He realized he’d closed his eyes when he opened them and found Haru staring back at him. They were both breathing heavily, their mouths a bare centimeter apart. Haru let out a soft crooning sound and leaned back in to capture his mouth again but Makoto laughed—a warm thick sound—and pressed his knuckles to the boy’s mouth. “Wait. Not here. I’ll drown.”

“I’ll protect you.”

“No. You’ll be the one to drown me. I know it.”

“Makoto…” the sound was an undisguised whine.

“I know, Haru. I feel it too. I need it to.”

“So let me. I’m selfish. I’ll get over the guilt.”

“You shouldn’t be feeling guilty in the first place. This is the best gift you ever gave me.”

“That’s not saying much. I’ve only ever given you crappy gifts in the past.”

“That’s because you don’t ever remember my birthday until it’s nearly over.”

“That’s because it’s in November. I never remember anything in November. It’s a bad month. They never have the outdoor pools open then. And you always yell at me if I go in the ocean after September.”

“That’s because you will literally _die_ of frostbite.”

“You’re so scary when you yell. It makes me feel like a puppy who peed in the house.”

“Your mind is a very strange place.”

“That’s because I was once deprived of water for 2 weeks as punishment for failing English and it traumatized me.”

“You can’t blame everything on that, you know, and besides, it was only really 3 days because I started sneaking you into the school pool after I found you sitting in my kitchen sink with the water overflowing onto the floor.”

“Oh right, sorry for that. Your mom flipped. Her yelling isn’t pleasant either. You must get that trait from her.”

“It was _three_ in the _morning_.”

“Oh so my water cravings are supposed to follow a timed schedule now?”

“Why the sink?”

“Because it was the first thing I found and I was desperate.”

“I love you so damn much.” And then Makoto was kissing him again, and he wasn’t being gentle about it. His fingers were clamps now yanking Haru closer, wanting him _on_ him, _part_ of him. Water sloshed onto the floor in big reckless waves but he didn’t care. His teeth found Haru’s bottom lip and he tugged it into his mouth sucking on it, tasting the boy as Haru opened his mouth to him and found his tongue. They were both breathing too heavily, it was embarrassing, but Makoto didn’t have brain space left to worry about appearing too desperate. He was too busy trying to figure out how to get more of Haru’s square footage underneath his hands and mouth as fast as possible. Apparently Haru was better at problem solving than he was because it was he who found the bottom of Makoto’s shirt and began to peel it off, and that was such a great idea because clothes were such stupid barriers, and why had they ever been invented in the first place, and right now they were proving to be really horrible because they were so heavy with water and his shirt seemed like saran wrap now and Haru was heaving little frustrated sounds into his mouth that turned into indignant cries as Makoto pulled away from Haru’s mouth, gasping, so that he could finally wrench his shirt over his head. But if Haru was upset about the separation it didn’t last long because the next moment when he latched onto Makoto’s mouth again his breath caught as his hands met up with Makoto’s bare and sodden chest. And then it was Makoto’s turn to gasp because Haru’s hands were truly wondrous things. So then they were a pair of stuttering gasping idiots, but Makoto didn’t care because the next second he pressed his bare chest to Haru’s and everything was wet and hot and Haru’s breath and lips were driving him crazy and he was kissing and holding the other boy too hard but reeling back now seemed impossible, and Haru wouldn’t have let him anyway as was made clear by the boy’s iron bar hold on him. But even though his vision was swimming and everything was burning, he still jumped when Haru’s fingers found the button on his pants. He hadn’t put his hands below the other boy’s waist this whole time out of some misplaced feeling of propriety, but after his initial shock he realized Haru was completely right, as he usually was, and that pants were a completely unnecessary garment, and so reached down to help Haru slide them off his butt and down his legs and was rewarded for his efforts when Haru let out a sharp gasp that cut straight down into his lower abdomen where everything was tight and throbbing. The gasp turned to a moan when Haru’s fingers, which had dared to touch Makoto’s ass, spread out in a kind of hesitant exploration. Makoto was biting down on the inside of his cheek. He realized this when he tasted blood, and Haru must have tasted it too because he let out a soft growl and kissed Makoto deeper. His fingers were touching the waistband of Makoto’s underwear but made no move to go further than that. He was afraid, and Makoto could feel it. He wasn’t afraid of Makoto’s body. He knew Haru’s body language well enough to know that. No. If he had to guess—and he was good at that too—he’d say that Haru was afraid that he alone felt this—felt the need that was crawling up Makoto’s back and lancing deep into his nerves setting everything ablaze. Haru was wrong. So wrong. Makoto wanted it just as much. Probably more. And that’s why he drew himself off his knees, and planted his feet on the floor of the tub. And then, with Haru secured tightly in his arms, he stood up, raising both their sodden bodies out of the water as water streamed off of them. He didn’t waste time, stepping out of the tub with strong fumbling steps. He couldn’t see where he was going because Haru was all he could see—or experience at all really, but the hotel suite was small—just a bedroom and a bathroom so there wasn’t much to navigate. Makoto found the door to the bathroom—well, collided with it really, but then pushed through it accompanied by Haru’s gasp of encouragement. His feet traded tile for hotel carpeting. Haru’s legs were wrapped tightly around Makoto’s waist, but it wasn’t necessary because the hold he had on Haru was strong enough to carry a boy twice his weight. He’d always felt too big. He’d always felt like his bulk belonged to someone else—that it should have been given to someone with a bigger personality to match it. But right now Makoto liked his broadness. He liked his strong arms because they let him hold Haru tighter. He liked his long legs because they let him walk to the bed faster, and he liked his big hands—hands that had always felt strange and clumsy but right now felt perfect and warm as they grasped tight handfuls of Haru’s thigh and back.

Makoto’s knees hit the edge of the bed and then they pitched forward. Makoto cradled Haru to his chest and caught himself on his outstretched hand before gently laying Haru down onto the bed’s surface. The boy’s cheeks were flushed, his hair tousled, and his eyes danced with the light of the ceiling fixture. He realized he was looking at the most beautiful creature inhabiting their world.

“Haru…” he whispered and pushed the boy’s hair from his face. He touched the boy’s cheekbone with the back of his knuckles.

Haru twined his arms around Makoto’s neck and kissed him drawing Makoto’s love out in an endless rush. The boy’s movments were feverish and Makoto tried to calm them by drawing him close and stroking his back. “You have all of me. I promise. Everything is yours for as long as you want it.”

“Always,” Haru said sounding too desperate—too much like begging for Makoto’s liking. The boy didn’t have to beg, he would give himself willingly enough. Why couldn’t he see that?

Makoto froze when he realized a familiar pitching in the other boy’s breathing. Haru was struggling not to cry. It felt like his heart was being squeezed up against his rib cage by a thousand pound stone. He would never be okay if Haru was crying. He’d learned that today. He pulled Haru’s face away from his and pushed it into the pocket between his shoulder and neck. “You havn’t finished telling me Haru. But I’m still listening. I won’t let anyone make you swim anything you don’t want to. I’ve promised that I do and always will love everything about you, and I swore that I will do everything in my power to ensure you can live your life with the freedom you’ve always had so why do you seem even more miserable than before?”

“Because it’s wrong!” Haru exploded, reaching around Makoto and linking his arms over his back. “I don’t want to limit you. I don’t want anything that impedes your own growth. You think I’m happy knowing you’ve dedicated years and years of your life to a sport you didn’t even used to like all that much? You think I’m happy hearing that you’re willing to sacrifice your own dreams just so I can sit around in a pool ignoring the world all day? You think I _want_ that?”

Makoto began to stroke Haru’s hair with gentle even strokes. “You don’t?”

“No! Well, sort of, I mean…no, shit, I—ugh. I don’t want anything if it means your sacrifice. I want to make you happy too, you know, that sort of comes with loving someone else you know.”

“So you love me?”

“Have you been listening at all in the past 15 minutes?”

“I always listen when you’re talking Haru.”

“Well then, yes, I love you. Glad you got the memo.”

“For someone so supposedly ignorant of sarcasm you sure are snarky when you get snippy.”

“Shut up you big lunk of muscle.”

“I love you too. Very much. And to address your big existential crisis I want to remind me that it’s not sacrificing if it makes me happy.”

Makoto thought that was the end of it. All his insides were singing. Haru loved him. He’d just said it. Pretty much spelled it out. That was more than he’d ever dreamed possible, and he’d dreamed about it a heck of a lot. But it wasn’t the end, because at that moment Haru shoved against his chest—hard—and he was so caught off guard by the gesture that he found himself falling over backward. And then Haru was above him, straddling him on the bed and looking down at him with indignant rage.

“No! Stop it Makoto. You’re allowed to want things.”

“I want you, don’t I?”

It was a pretty hard thing for Haru to argue against and Makoto knew it. The evidence of his desire was pressing against Haru’s thigh through his sodden underwear.

Haru growled—legitimately growled down at Makoto and the sound sent a thrill of sharpened pleasure racing down his back.

“Apart from me! Damn it, you can want more than one thing Makoto. I feel like you’re always trying to make yourself as small as possible. Like if you try hard enough to make everyone around you happy then you’ll be able to slip between the cracks they leave and live invisibly in them. Well I’m sorry to break it to you, you beautiful bastard, but you’re not small—you’re huge, and I like you that way. I like seeing you. You’re my favorite thing to look at, actually, and I’m sure I’m not the only one who thinks so. I don’t want you to disappear. I want you to be a solid presence in my life. I want you by my side. I’ve always wanted you by my side. Haven’t I made that clear? Don’t you remember my stupid bratty shows of jealousy whenever anyone threatened to pull you away from me? I’m bad at expressing myself, sure, but you—it’s like you don’t want to express yourself at all. Like you’re afraid of leaving a mark anywhere. But I want your marks, Makoto. I want them all over my life. I want to be able to point to every day of my life and show to anyone I give a crap about that you’re in there—that you’re in there _everywhere_. I know you want things. I know you care about things. So stop being afraid to show them. Your heart is so big, it can hold so many things, so why are you so afraid to let it?”

No. this was bad. Never had Makoto felt this stupid. Because he’d thought he’d been so good at hiding. He had succeeded so much that he’d even been able, for the most part, to hide many truths from himself. But it turned out that the person he had been hiding the most from had actually seen him the most clearly. He saw him better than Makoto even saw himself. And right now Haru was looking directly into his mind and soul and pointing out exactly what was there, and, more than that, was telling him that it was all _okay_. That everything he felt, and wanted was true, and legitimate, and had a right to exist. He was telling him that he saw everything and he liked it—wanted it. And Makoto had never heard that before, and he realized it because the wave of acceptance that hit him then like the strongest deepest embrace was one he’d never experienced before.

His mouth moved, but no sound came out. He struggled some more, and something, a gurgling sort of cry left him. The sound was entirely unattractive and downright stupid sounding, so Makoto abandoned all attempts to speak and simply launched himself at the beautiful boy. They landed back on top of the mattress and proceeded to roll around on top of it, hands and mouths everywhere, until their frantic movements became too wild, and one errant scrambling tackle rolled them right over the edge of the bed where they crashed to the floor in a tangled him. Neither of them felt it.

“Why are the hot ones always such idiots?” Haru growled pressing sucking kisses to Makoto’s neck.

“Well mom dropped me once as a baby. Dad told me when I was eleven. It only took 3 beers to get the story out.”

“Well at least this doesn’t seem to have suffered any damage,” Haru said pushing a daring hand to the bulge in Makoto’s underwear. Makoto’s inhale was a hiss and when he threw his head back it cracked against the floor. “Haru…” His voice was a strangled moan. His hands found Haru’s thighs and tugged the boy forward so that he was straddling him once more.

“Yes, yes, I know, I want you to fuck me too, but we have to settle this first.”

“Haru!”

“What? I use coarse language when I’m pissed off. You know that.”

“What would your mom say?”

“I don’t know. She hasn’t been home in forever. You think my parents have forgotten they have a son?”

“Of course not. Why would you say that?”

“Hey, these are the same people who deprived me of water for two weeks. They’re capable of anything.”

Makoto was sure he’d have thought of a retort to that, but then Haru ground his hips down on his erection and Makoto was cleared of every thought he’d had in the last five years.

“Though of course them being not home is a distinct advantage,” Haru ground out from between gritted teeth as he continued to rock against Makoto’s poor ready-to-explode erection. Haru’s eyes were squeezed shut and his jaw was tight with barely contained pleasure. Makoto could see this because despite the moans that were threatening to tear his throat to shreds he couldn’t close his eyes against the sight of the beautiful boy. “Think of all the uninterrupted sex we’ll be able to have.”

Makoto wasn’t sure if he believed in god, but just in case he sent up a prayer to prevent himself from going blind because he didn’t want to miss a second of the gorgeous undulating creature on top of him. He wanted to make an attempt at speaking again but by the way he was wheezing for air wasn’t a good sign. Haru used this to his advantage as he took the opportunity to launch his own verbal attack.

“Don’t pretend I didn’t see the way you looked at those kids you were coaching. You loved every minute of it. Looked like you were born to do it. I always thought you should do something involving kids. You were always so good with Ren and Ran, and you could win a Buddhist monk in a test of patience. You should teach. It doesn’t have to be swimming. Whatever subject you’d do you’d be great at. Even English, I bet.”

As Haru spoke his words had steadily begun to resemble animal grunting rather than human speech and his hold on Makoto’s shoulder as he ground down on him was so tight Makoto was pretty sure the boy had left finger indents in the muscle. Not that he minded. What he did mind, though, was the glaring reality of being at the edge of climaxing. He hadn’t read up much on that sort of thing but he was pretty sure that coming in the middle of Haru’s little speech would be considered rude by most standards. So he reached up and stilled Haru’s hips even though his own wanted to buck up against the boy until stars exploded behind his eyelids.

“Let go,” Haru growled, “I was enjoying that.”

Makoto was very pleased to discover that Haru had a natural aggressive bent in the bedroom. But as much as he was inclined to continue exploring that side of him, he wanted to finish this.

“I did enjoy the coaching,” he admitted. “I liked it very much.”

Haru grabbed one of Makoto’s hands and squeezed it. It was such a natural gesture—one Makoto had stopped himself from doing countless times over the long years they’d known each other—and feeling it now—Haru’s warm palm against his and the homecoming in their linked fingers made regret, thick and sorrowful, course through him over all the opportunities he’d missed out on.

“Then you should explore that,” Haru said. He pulled at Makoto’s hand as he leaned down, settling down on his side, and Makoto followed suit, lying down beside the other boy. They’d done this a lot, looking at each other, there was something so inherently calming about it, but never in the same bed. It was even better this way. Haru lifted Makoto’s other hand and placed it on his bare chest, over his heart. Makoto closed his eyes and let the rhythm of Haru’s heart, a little fast, but strong and steady, beat through him.

“You probably noticed, but throughout this whole summer I’ve made a glaring lack of decisions,” Haru said. Makoto opened his eyes. Haru smiled. Most people wouldn’t call it a smile, you had to look close to see the way the corners of his mouth turned up. But Makoto knew Haru’s face better than his own—he certainly had spent a lot more of his time staring at it—so he recognized it for what it was instantly, and warmth bloomed in his chest as a result. “I wanted you, but that’s all that I knew. I wanted you, but I knew I wasn’t supposed to, and that made me anxious. And I didn’t know what you wanted, and that made me even more anxious. And yet everyone and their mother, except mine of course, was demanding to know what I was going to do at the summer’s end. And I had no answer, so I dealt with it in a particularly ineffective way and pretended the problem didn’t exist. But of course it existed. It existed every moment of every day and I was keenly aware of it. I didn’t want to be—I desperately didn’t want to be—but I was. And It built up and built up and then you asked me what was wrong. You have this particular way of looking at me Makoto. I feel both safe and vulnerable when you look at me like that. You always know everything. Always. But you didn’t know then, and I couldn’t tell you. I wanted to tell you. The words almost ripped themselves out of me, but I didn’t tell you. Because I wasn’t free, no matter how much I always liked to pretend to be. I wasn’t free to love you because I was holding myself back. I wasn’t free, Makoto, because you weren’t in my life as much as I wanted you to be.”

Haru’s heart was slowing down, growing calmer. Makoto realized he was already becoming addicted to feeling its presence. He never wanted to pull his hand away, but Haru did pull his hand away, and he let him, not because he was always letting others trample over what he wanted, because he knew that Haru never took from him, but only gave, and so he knew Haru would only replace it with something better.

He was right. Haru wrapped the hand around him and snuggled into Makoto’s chest. The boy smelled like chlorine, sun screen, and the watermelon scented shampoo he’d been using since he was seven. Makoto had picked the first bottle of it up when they’d been shopping together with his parents one time and Haru had started using it after that. Makoto had always thought that the boy used it because he’d really liked the scent, but now he was starting to think that haru did it because he’d told him that he liked the smell. There were many things like that. So many things that Haru did that Makoto knew he did as a kind of tribute to him. The boy’s feelings were obvious now. He just hadn’t been looking before. He’d been too wrapped up in trying to hide his own feelings that he hadn’t realized Haru was offering his heart up to him the whole time. He was trying not to blame himself because he knew that would upset Haru, and besides, it couldn’t be healthy. But he couldn’t help feeling a kind of clean hurt for what they could have had until now.

“I’m not like you. I don’t really have any memories of the time before I met you Makoto, so it’s hard for me to imagine, but even without knowing that I know I want you and I want you always. I think I’ve said more words in the past 15 minutes then I’ve said to you all month and I’m sorry about that. I’m sorry that it looks like I’m shutting you out. I’m sorry I’m not a better communicator. And I’ll work on it. A lot of thoughts are going through my mind right now and because of you I’m trying to convince myself that maybe it would be okay for me to be with you. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad to push my feelings onto you. Maybe it’s okay because you say you love me back. Maybe. And I’ll give everything about that maybe, Makoto, because I know that I’m not a very good person without you. I know you said before that I seem to say the right things to people sometimes, but that’s your influence. Being around you—your gentleness, your kind words, your consideration. I can’t help being affected by it. I used to be a brat. I did what I wanted, whenever I wanted. I didn’t have parents who cared enough to stop me. And I still do that a lot. Like that time two summers ago when you took me to the aquarium and panicked because you’d thought I’d gotten kidnapped but had really just escaped into the pool with the dolphins.”

Of course Makoto remembered that. Haru had been so happy—so animated. They had been bottle nosed dolphins and Haru’s eyes had been lit up for days as he described everything he’d learned about them in the ten minutes he’d managed to swim with them before the tank caretaker had discovered him.

“But I don’t do that anymore because I don’t just think about me. I think about you. I think about you so much that sometimes I have whole conversations and experiences with you in my head and then am shocked when I realize they never really happened. And because I think of you everything I do and say is colored with your influence. And it doesn’t feel oppressive. With anyone else it would but not with you Makoto. Never with you. And that’s why you’re different—it’s why I’d be a fool to throw away what you’re offering me even if I feel I’m not good enough. Because maybe I can become good enough. As long as you’re willing to try then I’ll try, but you have to promise not to sacrifice any more. I can’t take it. You let everyone push you around—especially the people you love. So that’s why I ask you—and I’m seriously asking you, begging you, really, to at least make an exception and not let that happen with me.”

If anyone, and Makoto really meant anyone, ever dared to try and tell him after today that Haru had anything less than the full emotional range of any thinking and feeling person then he was going to take them and staple them to the ground for several long weeks while they thought about what they’d said because he was of the opinion that if you looked—really looked—at Haru for just a few seconds, you would see everything that he did. You would see so much.

Makoto curled his fingers around Haru’s waist and managed to snuggle them just that tiniest extra bit closer. Every part of them was touching from their toes to their foreheads, and Makoto loved it that way. He squeezed the hand he was still holding. Haru’s hand. He would recognize it even if he were blindfolded and hung upside down during a raging sand storm. “I’ll try,” he whispered, and pressed a kiss to the crown of Haru’s head. “But be patient with me, it might take a while.”

“Take as long as you like.”

“You won’t get bored of me?”

“I haven’t in the last 12 years so I’m pretty sure you’re safe on that front, but…”

Haru’s lips curved into a more pronounced smile.

Makoto sighed and took the bait. “But?”

“Well Rin _is_ pretty hot.”

“I’m going to murder both you and him and the judge will rule it justified homicide.”

“I think I’m the only one that can bring out the violent side of you.”

“That’s not something to be proud of, you know.”

“Shut up and screw me already.”

“What happened to your promise to be patient?”

“Makoto Tachibana I could have handed my virginal ass over to a certain shark toothed Matsouka anytime over the past god knows how many years while I was waiting for a certain _somebody_ to finally confess to me—I won’t mention any names, but he happens to have the most flawless back muscles ever to be seen on the face of the earth. So don’t you dare talk to me about patience.”

“You’re still a virgin?”

“All I eat is fish and I get boners when I see large bodies of water for the first time. _Of course_ I’m a virgin.”

“I’m starting to think you’ve been lying about the whole sarcasm thing all these years.”

“Well just so you know I don’t consider this kind of bantering foreplay so hurry the hell up.”

A sound very much like a gunshot but about 500 percent more unwelcome shattered the lust filled atmosphere, ruining it completely. It was, of course, the sound of the door being thrown open and hitting the wall as Nagisa announced his entrance in all his blonde shota glory.

“Wait! You guys! You need protection and I seem to be the only one who ever carries condoms on his person religiously.”

“Nagisa!”

This shout, of course, belonged to Rei, who always seemed to be shouting disapproving things to the little penguin but never actually _doing_ anything about it because _everyone_ knew that the intelligent boy was wrapped tightly forever around Nagisa’s little conniving finger.

“What? Do you want them to catch diseases?”

“Well seeing as we’re both virgins I highly doubt that that’s a problem,” Makoto grumbled pulling Haru back into his arms because the boy had jumped at the sound. He was usually a pretty modest sort of guy, but if he tried to cover himself up every time Nagisa burst in at an inappropriate moment then he’d be wasting his entire life on the endeavor. (Nagisa was really gifted that way.) And besides, he had already lost too much time he could have spent holding Haru. He wasn’t going to be wasting anymore.

“And don’t pretend to have an excuse either,” Haru added, “We both know you’re only here because you’re a pervert.”

“You guys are mean. I eavesdrop on you out of the goodness of my own heart and you know it. You know how much heartburn I’ve gotten watching you two secretly angst over each other the past bajillion years?”

“Gou says that the heartburn is because of all the sugar you consume,” Rei interjected, “Something I’ve been telling you since the first day I saw you eat lunch. And speaking of lunch, I think I’m about to lose mine. What ever made you think I wanted to see Haruka and Makoto senpai mating?”

“Oh please, they’re not even at third base,” Nagisa said.

“Not yet,” Haru corrected.

Makoto felt a headache coming on. “Nagisa will you stop trying to drive Rei away? In case you’ve forgotten he’s the only recruit we have.”

“Sorry, it was necessary. I wanted to make sure he was really gay.”

“You _what?_ ” Rei spluttered.

Nagisa smiled. “Definitely gay.”

“You—what—I demand to see the evidence and scientific proof before you go shouting claims that—“

Nagisa grabbed Rei’s school tie, yanked him down and gave him the kind of kiss that even full grown adults with years of sexually exploring relationships would be impressed by. When he let go of the butterfly boy he was still smiling, but it looked kind of dazed. “There’s your evidence right there,” he managed grabbing Rei’s arm to steady himself. That wasn’t a very good idea because Rei was a lot less stable then he was. They ended up crashing onto the floor together. Nagisa didn’t seem to think that was a very bad location. He’d already begun kissing Rei again before they’d even hit the floor—something Rei didn’t seem to be minding very much. Haru rolled his eyes. “This is all your fault for making a swim team in the first place.”

Makoto eyed the two younger boys with a parental kind of worry. “Their backs are going to hurt if they do that on the floor.”

“Good. Maybe it’ll make them get up and leave.”

It was very clear in the next few seconds that they weren’t going to get up and leave. Nagisa had already managed to remove Rei’s sweater, tie and shirt and it looked like his belt was well on its way to being a thing of the past. It was safe to assume that the little blonde was _not_ in the virgin club with his senpais.

Haru sighed. “Come on. We might as well go and stop Rin from killing Sousuke—at least until the bedroom frees up again.”

“You’re terrible and you should feel bad.”

“Hey _you’re_ the one that fell in love with me. What does that say about you?”

“That I clearly belong on medication,” Makoto shot back as he hunted around for a pair of pants. Rei was getting dangerously close to naked at this point. Makoto gave up and merely dragged Haru to the door, stepping around the two gasping boys in the process. It wasn’t just Rei who was missing clothes at this point.

“You do realize that we’re probably going to be walking in on pretty much _that_ if we _do_ go and intervene,” Haru said, pointing at their other swim team members. “I don’t know about you but I’ve seen enough Samezuka dick to last me a lifetime.”

Makoto’s eyes widened. “I thought you said you hadn’t done anything with Rin?”

Haru smiled, and this time it was one that anyone, not just Makoto, would be able to see. “Who said anything about Rin?”

All the way down the hall, about 10 doors down there was a room with two boys. One was very large, larger than Makoto even, with an injured shoulder, and a redhead in his arms. This red head’s eyes matched his hair. He’d been crying. But his eyes were dry now, and that was mostly thanks to the hold the larger boy had been keeping him in for the last 20 minutes. He was doing relatively well now, having gotten over the initial shock and hurt of the situation he’d stumbled in on. But then he was startled when he heard a loud and rather hysterical threat. _Must have been more upset than I thought_ he mused, as Sousuke pressed kisses to his jawline. _I’d have to be to hear Makoto Tachibana threatening to rip Haru’s dick off and hand it over to the university scout._ The thought disturbed him so much that he had to bury his face in Sousuke’s chest again. It was a very nice chest. The boy had filled out gorgeously while Rin had been off in Australia. _I should probably get that checked out_. The last thing he needed was to be hearing things right before the relay.

Haru and Makoto never made it to Rin’s room. They only made it as far as a conveniently placed utility closet about two doors down from their room before Makoto pushed Haru up against a wall and demonstrated to him _very clearly_ that he wouldn’t be needing a single samezuka member ever again. Haru was extraordinarily pleased with this course of action, especially given the fact that he’d been bluffing out of his ass about the whole Samezuka thing. Not that he needed to tell Makoto that—yet. He figured he could get in a few more rounds before that became necessary. He’d be sure to make it up to Makoto after that. Thoroughly.

\----

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This of course was my first Free! fic and it was an on the spot reaction to the episode from this week. Needless to say I was traumatized and writing this was my therapy. This is pretty much how I figured how everything went down after the curtains closed but I guess we'll find out this wednesday. Some of you may not agree with my characterization of these characters and that's okay, I had some fun with it. Thanks once again to all of you who have been so supportive so far. As always i love you guys more than words can say.  
> (apologies in advance. This hasn't really been edited because I was in a hurry to get this out before the next episode aired. If you find errors that really bother you feel free to note them in the comments and I'll go back and correct them)


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